Long Enough
by eternalsailorsolarwind
Summary: Late meeting Ichigo at a club for his 21st birthday, Renji manages to stop a guy from drugging him. The next day, they decide they've waited long enough for each other. Renji/Ichigo.


Long Enough

By: eternalsailorsolarwind AKA youkai_girl

Disclaimer: _Bleach_ and all of its characters are owned by Tite Kubo, his Japanese publishers, and Viz. I only play with them for grins and giggles.

A/N: This kept popping up when I was trying to work on Assumptions 4. I sat down and wrote it out since it was getting the way. Renji comes to the living world for Ichigo's 21st birthday, and they meet up in a club. Renji/Ichigo.

0o0o0o0o0o

"Stupid Hollow," muttered Renji, weaving through the crowd on the club's dance floor. "Makin' me late."

Even in the packed club, Ichigo stood out like a beacon. Not only because of the orange hair, but in how the younger man carried himself; completely sure of who he was and what he could do. Everywhere the substitute Soul Reaper went, eyes – both male and female – followed him.

Renji felt some of those same eyes on him as he moved through the press of bodies. He knew he was just as striking – a little taller and broader in the shoulders – as Ichigo; tribal tattoos giving him a dangerous air that even the younger man couldn't quite match. And now that his friend had just turned twenty-one, they seemed nearly the same age.

Ichigo caught sight of him as he chatted with a Grimmjow-wannabe, nodding in greeting. The younger man turned to face him, ignoring the man he'd been talking to. Resting his elbows on the bar, Ichigo leaned back against it, giving Renji a view of the skin tight black leather pants and nearly as tight blue shirt above it. The lieutenant felt his mouth water at the sight.

The clothes highlighted the incredible definition of the substitute _shinigami's_ muscular body, and Renji felt certain parts of his own anatomy responding – tight jeans be damned. _One of these days_, he promised himself, _he was finally going to say something to Ichi_ -.

His thoughts derailed as he saw a hand drop something into Ichigo's drink. Narrowed amber eyes followed the line of the hand and arm to its owner: the guy Ichigo had been talking to. The lieutenant saw the smirk on the bigger man's face as he withdrew his hand. Still several feet away, Renji shouted for Ichigo to dump the glass.

The younger man frowned at him, reaching for the glass. For a moment, Renji thought he'd succeeded; that his battlefield bellow was loud enough to be heard over the body-vibrating beat of the music and screaming customers. Then Ichigo downed the remainder of the drink in one gulp, and pushed himself off the bar, heading towards him.

Shit.

The asshole that had just doctored the drink looked none too pleased to see his target walking away. He left the bar, following his prey.

Ichigo, however, was as direct as ever. Looking over his shoulder at the man following him, he scowled. "What's your problem?"

"You were talking to me."

The scowl deepened, and disdain crossed the Vaizard's face. "Yeah, I was. While I was waitin' for _him_."

"But…"

"Look," snarled Ichigo, "You're a great conversationalist, and thanks for the drink. But I'm not interested."

The guy frowned, opening his mouth to protest, when Renji spoke up. "What'd ya' put in th' drink, asshole?"

Ichigo glanced at Renji, eyes widening in surprise. The Grimmjow-wannabe frowned dangerously, but held his ground. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, ya' don't. Too bad I saw it happen. What was it?"

The punch wasn't exactly unexpected, so Renji caught the incoming fist with his hand. Decades of fighting things that moved faster than the blink of an eye sharpened reflexes, even with a slow _gigai_ on. "Wanna try again?"

The bastard took his second swing, catching Renji on the chin. It didn't even rock him back. Spitting blood from where his teeth cut him, he drawled, "I know sixteen-year-old girls that hit harder than that. My turn."

One shot put the guy on the floor, eyes rolling upwards to see the inside of his skull. Reaching down, Renji half-lifted him with a fist knotted in his shirt. "What'd ya' put in the damn drink?"

"Ruh-roofies."

Dropping him, the redhead aimed a kick to the ribs, before stepping over the man. "How many drinks y' had, Ichigo?"

The substitute Soul Reaper looked a little pale. "One before he showed up, and then the one he bought me."

"What do these 'roofies' do?"

Ichigo explained the drug's effects, scowling hard at the guy – now unconscious – on the bar floor. "We're gonna need to get outta here before they kick in."

Renji nodded, already noticing a strange cast to his friend's eyes.

By the time they reached Ichigo's apartment, the younger man was all but unconscious. Renji was shouldering most of his friend's not-inconsiderable weight; a familiar task from the war. Setting Ichigo on the bed, he was unsurprised to see the orangehead flop backwards gracelessly. Sighing, the redhead began undressing him to make him more comfortable. It was like undressing a sack of rice.

Sliding the shirt off, the redhead paused, taking in the new tattoo on Ichigo's left bicep. It was very new; the ink a crisp ebony against tan skin. The pattern threw Renji for a loop: the same interlocking tribal design as on his chest. "When did he get that?"

He stared at the bare-chested man lying on the bed. Ichigo still had the physique of a _shinigami_ – much like his own – with the height to match. Renji could almost stare straight into his friend's eyes now if they stood toe-to-toe. The cowrie shell necklace, hidden by the undone shirt collar, and the tattoo emphasized Ichigo's muscular body. The redhead swallowed hard, his throat suddenly gone dry with desire.

Renji'd wanted Ichigo for years, his obsession beginning that day under Sokyoku Hill when they'd talked about why the _ryoka_ had come after Rukia. It only grew stronger as the years passed. Recently, things had begun changing between them; Ichigo hinting at an interest that went beyond their usual rivalry and friendship. But nothing else so far; between their schedules and near-constant interruptions when they _were_ together, they never had the chance to figure things out.

Now he was staring down at Ichigo's half-naked body lying unconscious on the bed, and thinking of the younger man as a lover – not as a best friend. Never mind that he had no right to do so.

"Dammit," muttered Renji in frustration. Scrubbing his face with a hand, he sighed, leaning over to pull off the orangehead's shoes. "This is gonna be a long night."

Movement woke Renji as someone hurried past his position. Opening his eyes, he noted the empty bed; Ichigo was awake. Standing up, he yawned and stretched; muscles, tendons, and bones popping and crackling into place. Sleeping in a hard chair sucked. Retching noises floated to him from the bathroom. Ichigo'd said he hadn't drank much before he'd arrived at the club, so it must be the drugs.

Giving his friend a moment, he tapped on the closed door. "Ya' okay in there?"

Running water and a flushing toilet was his only answer. After a couple of minutes, the Vaizard stepped out, looking wasted. The redhead felt a pang, and considered a quick flash-step back to the bar to knock that bastard's teeth out.

Rubbing his face, Ichigo finally replied to his earlier question. "Been better. Can't remember much after you showed up at the club, though you took out some guy…."

The lieutenant could see the substitute _shinigami_ struggle with his memory as he trailed off. Judging by the look on Ichigo's face, he knew it wasn't good, even if he couldn't remember the specifics. "The asshole drugged ya'. Roofies, he said."

Already pale from puking, Ichigo turned pasty. Renji hurried to continue, "We left right after I knocked him out. I brought ya' back here, but you passed out in the taxi. I put ya' to bed once we got inside."

Some of the color returned to the former _ryoka_'s face. "Thanks, Renji."

Just like that, the pressure was gone and everything was okay again. Ichigo was back to normal, and nothing bad had happened. The redhead grinned in relief. "Hey, no problem, man. As many times as ya' saved my ass over the years, I figured it time t' return the favor."

The rest of the morning was completely normal. They got cleaned up, and ate breakfast. It wasn't until they were about to leave for Urahara's so he could return to Soul Society that Renji brought up the tattoo. "So when'd ya' get that ink done, anyway?"

Twitching slightly at the question, Ichigo replied, "Uh…just last month. You saw it?"

"'Course I did. I figured ya' didn't want t' sleep in yer clothes. Took off yer shirt, but those leather pants of yours were too damn tight," drawled Renji. "So I left 'em on."

Noticing that Ichigo's face was slowly turning red, Renji smirked before continuing. Teasing his friend was a favorite hobby. "So what made ya' pick _that_ design, huh?"

Now bright red, Ichigo scowled at him. "Idiot. If you haven't figured it out by now…."

Smirking, the redhead replied, "Why don't ya' explain it to me. So there's no mistake."

"Fine."

The substitute Soul Reaper grabbed a startled Renji by the shirt and kissed him deeply and passionately. Not that the lieutenant minded in the least. With a low groan, he pulled the younger man even closer and just as passionately returned the kiss. "Figured it out yet," asked Ichigo huskily after the kiss ended. He didn't let go of Renji's shirt.

Slow, lazy smile. "Oh yeah."

This time, it was Renji that began the kiss, his tongue sliding sinuously against Ichigo's, beginning a battle for dominance that they both could win. A soft, needy sound escaped from Ichigo, and caused his own shivery moan, which broke the kiss.

"Always knew you had talent," drawled the redhead, licking his lips. "Just didn't know it was this much."

Smirking, Ichigo pushed him up against the wall, his mouth seemingly everywhere: jaw, lips, chin, and throat. Sword-callused hands burned their own trails along Renji's clothed body, making it strain into the touch. Hearing the jangle of his belt buckle as Ichigo fumbled with it brought the older man back to himself.

With a frustrated groan, the lieutenant pushed Ichigo back. He wasn't looking for a quickie against the wall after all these years of waiting for the orangehead. "Yer not thinkin' of doin' this right _here_ are ya'?"

The hoarse words brought the former _ryoka_ up short, and something flashed in his eyes. Then a quicksilver grin spread across his face. "Well…not now. I thought you had to get back."

"This is more important," replied Renji. Amber eyes stared into brown for a moment, before he leaned in to capture the other man's lips in another kiss. "I been waitin' long enough for us t' happen. And I ain't gonna do it half-assed."

Using the wall as a guide, they made their way back to Ichigo's bed, collapsing on it in a tangle of limbs. Hands, trembling slightly with a mix of desire and clumsy speed, quickly peeled off their clothes.

Seeing each other naked was nothing new. They'd spent plenty of time during the war tending to each other's wounds, not to mention using Urahara's healing springs. Then, they'd tried to be impersonal; hiding what they really thought, felt – and wanted.

Renji's hands slid over Ichigo's bare chest, fingers trailing over skin marked by numerous scars – some of which he'd left there. Instead of distracting from the other man's muscular frame, the scars seemed instead to make him whole somehow. As if he wouldn't be Kurosaki Ichigo – substitute Soul Reaper, former _ryoka_, Vaizard – without them.

And as the redhead was discovering, the ridged scars were wonderfully sensitive. Renji's tongue slid along the mark over Ichigo's Soul Sleep, feeling the other man's fingers slide up into his hair.

"God, Renji," hissed Ichigo, his hips bucking against the lieutenant's body.

"Ya' liked that," said Renji between suckling bites. "Yer gonna love this."

Slowly, the redhead made his way down the other man's scarred torso, lips, teeth, and tongue marking their progress. Sword-callused hands held down the Vaizard as he writhed beneath Renji's expert ministrations.

Finally, he reached Ichigo's erection. It weeped pre-cum as it strained towards him. Tongue darting out, the lieutenant tasted the fluid. Bitter as one of the substitute's scowls, he lapped up the droplet spilling down his about-to-be lover's cock.

"Nnghh, Renji." Ichigo's hips jerked upwards again. "Stop teasin' me, and get to it."

Glancing up, Renji saw sweat beading along the younger man's body, every muscle defined under that sheen. He dipped his tongue into the hole in Ichigo's penis, earning a guttural moan. "Impatient bastard, ain't ya'? I told ya', we're gonna do this right. 'Sides, I'm havin' fun."

The bottle of lube _thunked_ the older man in the head, dropping next to his arm. Noting that it was half-empty, the redhead realized he wasn't going to be Ichigo's first any more than the former _ryoka_ would be his. Not surprising, really. His younger friend was never one for patience. But if he wasn't Ichigo's first, Renji would at least be the most memorable. Almost savagely, he opened his mouth, and took in Ichigo's erection.

The hard arch of the body beneath him, and Ichigo's mewling cry hid Renji's fumbling for the lube. Flipping open the cap, he slicked his fingers. Ichigo's cock slipped free of his throat. Taking a breath, Renji tongued the head as his fingers found what he was looking for. Carefully, his lubed fingers began to circle Ichigo's hole, waiting for it to unclench for him.

He didn't have long to wait. With a soft sound, Ichigo relaxed, and the redhead's finger slipped inside. Shuddering slightly, the younger man slid his legs up, opening himself further to the older man.

Renji kept adding lube and more fingers until Ichigo pushed back against the three fingers inside him with a groan. Letting the orangehead's dick slip from his mouth, he let Ichigo fuck himself on his fingers while slicking his cock. Leaning forward, he caught Ichigo's lips in a deep kiss while replacing his fingers with his aching erection. Every muscle in his body tightened as he eased himself into the younger man.

Fully seated within his lover, he paused to let Ichigo adjust to him. Breaking the kiss, the former _ryoka's _lips ghosted back to suck on Renji's earlobe. Stong fingers pulled out the tie holding his red hair up, and it tumbled down in a thick curtain around them; a world of their own.

"Had to make sure you wouldn't think I was a fumbling kid. Been waitin' for you a long enough, Renji." Fingers slid along Renji's spine, making him shiver. "Fuck me."

Knotting his fingers into the sheets beneath them, Renji fought the urge to do just that as Ichigo tightened his body around his penis. His voice was rough, almost breathless, as if he'd just been in a fight. "Haven't seen you as a kid since our fight in Seireitei." He pulled out slowly until only the head of his dick was still inside his new lover. "I was jus' waitin' for you t' figure it out." He pushed back in just as slowly.

"…Both idiots then," panted Ichigo, arching into Renji's thrust. "How we gonna… fix it?"

"Like this."

His body screaming at him to _hurry_, he moved slowly into Ichigo, determined to make it last. He'd waited too long for this to just be a quickie. Renji could wait a few extra minutes for his release to just _feel_ the two of them together.

Naturally impatient, Ichigo couldn't. He did everything possible to drive the redhead faster: clawing at his back with blunt-nailed hands, meeting every thrust, and kissing the older man deeply. Ichigo just wanted to _come_.

Holding onto his control by sheer will, Renji lost it when Ichigo came with a shout; arching into him as his ass tightened rhythmically around his cock. Hot, sticky, fluid coated their chests and abdomen. The redhead's hips snapped forward, driving into his lover over and over, each thrust wringing his name from the younger man.

"Ichigo," growled Renji as he came; riding his lover hard. Spent, he collapsed onto Ichigo's body, moaning as the Vaizard's ass milked every drop from him. Resting his face in the crook of Ichigo's neck, he panted, catching his breath before moving to slip free of the other man's body.

Making a small sound of disapproval, Ichigo rolled onto his side. Looking up into his face, Renji saw the strong, handsome planes that had emerged as the former _ryoka_ matured. There was no boyish softness; hadn't been in years. Grinning cheekily, he ruffled the younger man's sweaty orange hair, laughing at the scowl that emerged.

Ichigo might not be a kid anymore, but the lieutenant decided he liked the man he'd grown into. He was definitely worth the wait.


End file.
